Tree\'s Lament

How could my people  

do this to me?

Picnic in my shade  

and nap there,  

climb my limbs,  

collect autumn leaves –   

then do this to me!

I am ashamed!

How can they do this to me?

How can they hang  

their own kind  

from my branches?


do not ornament!

They think I can’t feel  

this burden?

I cannot endure to live   

if this is what they do.

I harbor life,  

not bring death!

I am ashamed!

I’d rather die!

Cut me!  Burn me!

But don’t use me to kill.

My roots are curling,  

leaves are wilting, I

am dying…